


Taste of Sunshine

by baekyall



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: All I write is fluff I'm sorry, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Romance, literally just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-01 17:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16769947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baekyall/pseuds/baekyall
Summary: Chanyeol paints only in cool tones of moody purples, shimmering grays, and drowsy blues. Baekhyun is radiant and exudes the warmest hues he's ever seen. It consumes him.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> happy belated birthday chanyeol!!!!!!!!  
> (here's a tiny tiny lil fluffy oneshot for u guys)
> 
> there's a russian translation for the first chapter! thanks to my angel! https://ficbook.net/readfic/7712392

"Hey," Chanyeol attempts to whisper because, even though both the TV and the youngest boys are yelling, the room remains oddly peaceful. "Who is that?" 

He nods his head behind the couch, hoping that his actions aren't obvious, hoping that his curiousity isn't palpable in the air. Waiting for a response, Chanyeol doesn't let his eyes drift away from the smaller boy, from the way his soft hair is splayed across a pillow on Kyungsoo's bed.

Even in the dim light of the room (really, truly dim, since Kyungsoo insists on letting only his christmas lights shine through the small studio apartment) he can tell that the sleepy boy is beautiful. He's half awake, half asleep, and each word he says drifts across the room like a lullaby. He's putting Chanyeol to sleep from just watching -- it's weird.

Kyungsoo follows the taller's gaze across the room, eyes softening when they spot the figure curled in his bed, heavy eyelids and pouty mouth on full display. The boy smacks his lips together before pulling them into a lazy smile, sweet sentiments oozing out of his eyes with each blink, a comforting aura practically cocooning him. Chanyeol's eyes flicker between him and Junmyeon, watching their exchange, watching the boy's long fingers wrap around a blanket and bring it to his shoulders gently.

"That's Byun Baekhyun." Kyungsoo chuckles the name out, as if the boy's very being is an act of comedy, of happiness. "He's in one of my classes. As you can see, he gets comfortable pretty quickly." 

Chanyeol _can_ see that. Baekhyun is giggling directly in Junmyeon's face, face scrunched in joy, and it awakens something in Chanyeol, something that dyes his cheeks red and makes him take a deep breath. _Ow_ , he thinks, _smiles shouldn't hold that much power_. 

If his friends weren't screaming over the action movie blaring through the apartment, Chanyeol would've thought that this was a serene moment of realization -- maybe it was the second he understood that perhaps you _can_ fall in love at first sight. But his friends are deafening, as always, and his head hurts a little, partially due to the fact that Sehun and Jongin won't shut up, but mostly because of the way Baekhyun's speaking right now, cheeks and lips puffed out in the most adorable expressions he's ever seen. 

He wonders if watching someone speak and smile and laugh should make him feel this nervous, this giddy, this invested. He wonders if Kyungsoo has registered the look on his face and filed away this information for later. He wonders if Baekhyun can feel his eyes on him, can feel the infatuation drifting from the tall boy on the couch. 

"Shut the fuck up!" Sehun's louder than even Chanyeol's most panicked thoughts, and so he spins away to watch the TV and figure out what's going on. He needed that distraction, really -- for once, he thanks their loud mouths. "You think _you_ could do better? Don't ever talk about Thor like that again. Fuck off, Jongin." 

Jongin laughs loudly, voice high pitched and breathy, before he launches toward the youngest boy to punch his shoulder. "I'm older than you, dumbass." 

Chanyeol hopes Baekhyun likes cussing and screaming and fighting. He also hopes that Baekhyun likes tall boys with big ears and a crippling fear of confrontation -- he hopes he likes boys named Chanyeol, specifically. His hopes are far too high, he fears. 

"And? You want me to respect someone with a 2.5 GPA?"

They fight again, this time tackling each other and blocking the TV completely. It's a clash of long limbs and boyish screams, so loud that they can't even hear the chaos overtaking the movie. Sehun disregards the rules of wrestling and tickles the older boy -- Jongin squeals and kicks his legs so wildly that Kyungsoo startles and moves to protect his living room setup, panic settling into his usually calm features. His friends are so aggravating but so funny, and Chanyeol laughs, too distracted by Jongin's whining and Sehun's hollering to notice the presence behind him, the eyes drifting over him, the thin body settling in next to him. 

"I know them but I don't know you." 

Chanyeol jumps and turns to see Baekhyun staring at him, face mere inches away, beauty shining bright from the multicolored lights strung above them. His eyes move from charming eyes to upturned lips before settling on the curve of his cheek and the mole that resides there. He wants to connect the dots on Baekhyun's face with his finger, watch his long eyelashes flutter closed against his touch -- but he doesn't _know_ him, he realizes suddenly, panic bubbling inside his chest like lava. 

"I'm Park Chanyeol," he smiles wide, relieved when Baekhyun mimics the gesture, eyes crinkling against soft skin. "Kyungsoo and I grew up together. That's why I'm here for movie night." 

Baekhyun's so pretty from up close, features and gestures so defined, real in a way that overwhelms each of Chanyeol's senses. Until a second ago, he'd been a wisp of smoke across the room, but now he's surrounding him, filling his lungs and wrapping around every inch of his consciousness. When Baekhyun's eyes don't lose an ounce of their spark even after a few moments, his hands itch to reach out to the smaller, to trace his features into paper and paint him, an ocean of crushing smiles and nimble fingertips on stark white canvas. 

_Oh_ _god_ , he thinks, stomach rolling, _he wants to paint him already -- he has it bad this time_.

"I'm Byun Baekhyun," a slim hand grabs Chanyeol's and shakes vigorously, frying all the braincells he had left, burning his ears a permanent red. "I met Kyungsoo this year! He's so funny, even though he doesn't try. I'm just here to watch Chris Evans, honestly." 

Chanyeol wants to laugh at that, but he can't, not when all he can register is that Baekhyun's hand is cold and soft -- and still held in his. Then he's forcing something akin to a giggle out, some of the joy in his chest bubbling into his voice. Even though it sounds garbled and goofy to Chanyeol, the sound of it makes Baekhyun laugh too. Suddenly, Chanyeol thinks he could pass out.

The hand is gone, but Chanyeol still feels it tingling across his palm.

"Kyungsoo's talked about you, you know," Baekhyun's smile is impish, all-knowing, and it makes the taller shift in his seat. He gulps. "He said you're really nice and that you're an artist! You paint, right?" 

Chanyeol's heart stutters and he avoids thinking of the way he'd dreamed of putting such beautiful features on canvas only seconds before. It was like Baekhyun could read his mind, could tell that his features and voice and presence sparked inspiration deep within Chanyeol's soul. He feels like Baekhyun can see through him, like he's as clear as the windows surrounding the living room -- he fears that the spark will spread too far, will catch them both on fire if he's not careful enough.

"I paint a little, yeah," Chanyeol feels embarrassed, but he kind of likes Baekhyun's prying eyes and confident smile, likes the way he's so wholly entertained by Chanyeol's existence. Everything about the shorter makes him hypersensitive, overstimulated, and he wonders if Jongin and Sehun are still fighting -- he can't focus on anything besides Baekhyun's lips and the way he enunciates each syllable. 

"What do you paint?" his eyes are so focused, and he's moving closer, ever so slowly. "Flowers? Landscapes? People?"

Chanyeol doesn't think he's breathing, but it's okay, because now he knows that Baekhyun's eyes sparkle even more from up close, that he smells like strawberries and honey. 

"He paints people," Junmyeon's back from the kitchen, apparently, and he hands Chanyeol a plate of pizza and chips as he settles down on the floor by his shins. "Mostly, I think." 

Junmyeon's right, and when Chanyeol nods along to his friend's words, Baekhyun lights up even further. It makes Chanyeol's hands shaky and pulse throb. He hopes that Baekhyun likes paintings of people.

"You must be so talented," his words are said casually, but his eyes are fawning, and Chanyeol wonders whether he could ever capture the look Baekhyun is giving him right now, brilliant and full of unspoken admiration, despite only meeting a few minutes ago. He wonders if someone so lovely has ever existed before, will ever exist again.

"No, really, I'm --" 

"Don't flatter yourself," Jongin's voice is hoarse and annoyed as he slides into Chanyeol's lap easily, wrapping strong arms around the tallest, anchoring him in mortification and locking him down in affection. "My baby Chanyeol is the best artist in the whole wide world!" 

Baekhyun's laughing a loud laugh, one that sends tingles down Chanyeol's spine, one that makes the other boys burst into giggles too. He's so tiny, but his voice is loud and his happiness is infectious, ever-bright, so intoxicating. Chanyeol wants to push Jongin out of his lap and capture that glow in the other's eyes as best he can, wants to do his cheekbones justice as he carves him out with paint, cherishes the curve of his nose with stroke of muted tones. He stays put, though, watching with bated breath as Baekhyun composes himself, cheeks pink and eyes teeming with amusement.

"But Chanyeol only paints people with blue, purple, and gray -- stuff like that," Sehun's voice is muffled, informative, and suddenly Chanyeol realizes that the youngest has stolen his plate of pizza. "He may look like he's a big goofball, but deep inside, he's a constant, ongoing blue period. Only Van Gogh can relate, I guess." 

"That's Picasso -- he had the blue period, Sehun."

Sehun rolls his eyes at Chanyeol's tone, and Jongin nuzzles his head against the crook of Chanyeol's neck, tiny voice drifting through the apartment: "My baby Chanyeol is so smart!"

Baekhyun seems to think this comment is the funniest thing to ever be said, so Chanyeol holds back the expletives tickling his tongue and the rough shove he'd planned to land on Jongin's ass. If it makes the smaller boy's eyes go starstruck and that boisterous laugh ring out, Chanyeol will put up with most anything. 

They watch the movie then, and Chanyeol ignores the way Baekhyun scooches closer to him, shoulders and arms touching only slightly. He tries to focus on how heavy Jongin's body is, on the way Tony Stark is barking orders, and he's able to maintain a semblance of sanity, even with the residual heat of Baekhyun's sparkling energy heating him to the very core, leaving his mind ringing with constellations across plush cheeks and the soft scent of strawberries nestled against his arm. 

\-- 

He frowns at the strokes of gray lining the canvas, at the way the plum color highlights what _should_ be an accurate depiction of Baekhyun's jawline, strong and sharp against full cheeks and soft lips. It's not, though, and that's the issue -- the painting is Baekhyun, but it's not _Baekhyun_. 

Chanyeol stares down at the boy's instagram (which he obtained from Kyungsoo, after a few questioning glances and incriminating nods.) He thinks the painting is an accurate depiction of the angel in the photo, but it's not completely right. The ocean blue washes away the joy accumulated in Baekhyun's eyes, turns the sweltering warmth hiding in his smile to tepid fog, bland and wrong and _not Baekhyun_. 

As much as he'd been infatuated initially with the boy, and as religiously as his brain had registered every feature on the smaller's face, it was no help, not right now. The heat that Baekhyun carried couldn't be translated without a few errors, not with Chanyeol's clumsy hand and dreary colors clouding the canvas. For once, he feels utterly defeated by a piece, and he needs to sit down. 

Maybe he needs to see him again -- to get a better grip on his features, to get over this silly heat sizzling in his chest, to overcome this urge to paint. He needs to see Baekhyun again in order to conquer this painting, to let his mind rest peacefully and forget the way Baekhyun makes every atom in his body spin out of control, silly and dizzy and confusing. 

And so he takes a gulp of air, hoping with all his might that this will go well, and types a message to the smaller carefully, almost pitifully. 

_hey! i'll be over by the education college in a few minutes if you want to go eat or something? i can invite kyungsoo too_

Chanyeol busies himself by putting paints away, ignoring the tremble in his steps as he cleans up his studio (also known as his living room) in order to distract from what he's just done. He can't comprehend why he'd been so bold, why his mind had supplied such a rash decision as a solution. He's already regretting it, thinking of Baekhyun's lovely smile and eyes, knowing deep down that there's no way for someone as radiant as him to be single, much less interested in someone who's only winning trait is moody paintings of strangers he finds fascinating. When his phone dings, Chanyeol jumps to grab it, mind malfunctioning at the words displayed in front of him.

_i think soo is busy!!!! but we can eat :)_

He needs to breathe, needs to focus on the mission here: learn Baekhyun's features like the back of his hand, paint him correctly, and get over this crush before his heart hurts too much. It doesn't occur to him that maybe, just maybe, Baekhyun could be both the wound and the medicine to his aching heart. 

\-- 

Baekhyun eats the spicy peppers from Chanyeol's plate, and Chanyeol picks the cucumbers out of the smaller's bowl, set on purifying the meal of anything Baekhyun doesn't like. He thought he'd seen the cutest expression that could grace Baekhyun's face -- happiness -- but then Baekhyun's nose scrunches in disgust at the green vegetable, and he decides that he _definitely_ needs to sketch that, even if it never gets painted. Everything about him is electrifying, canvas-worthy, and it's so refreshing.

He feels a weird sort of protective happiness winding around his heart and voice, making him sound doting and soft in a way he hadn't known he could be, but he explains it away, chalks it up to Baekhyun's sheer power of inspiration and motivation. With a muse like the boy in front of him, it's a wonder Chanyeol has any time to eat at all when he could be painting and drawing. 

"And so I told her to put the toy down because you're supposed to _share_ ," Baekhyun's rolling his eyes, but his smile remains fond, tender. "But she wouldn't listen! I tried to explain that she was making her friend cry, but she refused. It's okay, though, because the actual teacher stepped in and helped." 

Chanyeol hadn't given the smaller's major much thought, but when he thinks of Baekhyun teaching children, singing songs, and shining like the literal sun, he knows it fits, knows that there's no one else in the world who could give those kids such genuine warmth and love. He wonders if Baekhyun is aware of how brightly he dazzles, even in everyday situations -- he acts as though each spoonful he brings to his mouth is overwhelmingly delicious, and his cheeks turn pink as he chews, dewy face turned soft in happiness. 

"Do you want to teach preschool? Or just younger elementary?" 

"Preschool, of course!" Baekhyun frowns and makes a grab for a stray pepper left over on Chanyeol's plate. He eats it as if knowing the taller's food preferences had always been second nature to him. "I love toddlers the most. They're so tough to deal with, but it's _so_ worth it. I want to give them a good foundation for school." 

_Oh_ , Chanyeol's fascinated with the way his facial structure changes as he speaks, is enchanted by the adoration tinting each word he speaks. _He's so beautiful it hurts_. 

"And you? Jongin's little artist?" the smaller sticks his tongue out, and Chanyeol finds new ways to be amazed with each expression, shoveling in another bite to conceal the panic Baekhyun's actions instill in him. "You want to be the world's best painter?" 

The smaller's heart feels heavy, and suddenly he's not so sure he just wants to paint Baekhyun. He kind of wants to kiss him, too. 

"Not really," he shrugs. Baekhyun's eyes twinkle as they follow his movements, focused and attentive as ever. It thrills him more than he wants to admit. "I just want to be happy and paint things that inspire me. That's why I enjoy it." 

"Oh, interesting!" Baekhyun smiles as bright as ever, and Chanyeol doesn''t care that he probably tastes spicy right now, he just wants to feel those lips pressed against his. He wants to learn the curve of Baekhyun's lips like that, wants to have them completely memorized by the time he goes to paint again. He chugs his water, instead. "And what inspires you?" 

\-- 

Baekhyun is amazed, to say the least. He seems enthralled with each painting that Chanyeol shows him -- which is many, since they line every wall and pile up in each corner of his tiny apartment. The taller can't remember how they got here, just a faint haze of Baekhyun's rapid-fire questions and prodding, a tender bus ride where Baekhyun shared his earphones, shoulders melded together once again, so timid and gentle and maybe not even there after all. 

"Who are they?" Baekhyun traces a dainty figure across the edge of one, a portrait of a confused girl, swirls of dark blue and emerald swallowing her whole, a gasp of air still stuck in her mouth, shock evident in her eyes. 

"Just strangers I see," he shrugs with embarrassment, feeling scrutinized and appreciated in a way that's never felt so pure, so true, before. "That was a girl on the subway. She got a call and made that face, and it stuck. It just happens." 

"You're amazing," his long fingers trail down the wall, halting at a painting that he'd just recently framed. "Is this Sehun?" 

An angular face the color of wine, with steely gray eyes and hard features, surrounded by faint outlines of books. It _is_ Sehun, and Chanyeol feels a little embarrassed that people are actually recognizable from his artwork -- sure, he'd always wanted to portray the people around him, but it hits his core when he realizes that he's _done it_. 

"Yeah," Baekhyun's close to him again all at once, eyes and nose and lips only centimeters from his, shimmering under dark eyelashes and glowing skin. Chanyeol's eyes cross on accident, his eyes trying far too hard to capture every milisecond of Baekhyun in front of him, senses hyperaware of just how alone they are in this apartment.

"Do you paint your friends a lot?" the corner of his lips quirk up, tiny and simple, but it feels like the most intricate melody ever composed is playing in Chanyeol's mind, drowning out everything else but Baekhyun. "Did you paint _me_?" 

"I --" Chanyeol can't tell the truth, not when the only attempt he's ever made turned out to be a garish recreation of the gorgeous boy in front of him. "I haven't tried to paint you yet." 

Baekhyun deflates, stepping back a bit, and Chanyeol feels as if he's done something wrong, though he knows he hasn't. He hasn't, right? His mind is whirring, and he wants to pull Baekhyun closer again, even though his mind is screaming to run and stop himself from becoming addicted to the warmth the smaller exudes, to the smiles they share. 

"Oh, I just thought -- I thought the one in the corner was me," Baekhyun points, voice tiny and a little blue. It doesn't fit him, no matter how Chanyeol tries to match his tone to a hue he's so familiar with. "Sorry for assuming."

Chanyeol wants to cry because that _is_ Baekhyun; he hadn't picked it up before he'd run out to eat with the smaller, and now he's royally fucked. As if it wasn't embarrassing enough to spend hours painting someone he'd met once, he'd been caught lying about it. If Baekhyun brings this up to anyone else, he will never hear the end of it, he's sure. 

"Oh!" Chanyeol moves to the left, blocking it from Baekhyun's sight. "That's -- that's, that's a work in progress. I didn't like how it turned out. I didn't think you would want to see the failed one." 

It's as if a switch has been flipped, and the fire in Baekhyun's eyes is kindled once again, warm with orange undertones, setting the boy aglow in this little, melancholy apartment. It feels dangerous, but Chanyeol likes it, likes the way his heart jumps against his chest at Baekhyun's actions.

"I hope you show me the finished one," the smile burns bright into Chanyeol's chest, and his heart struggles to keep him functioning with a ray of sunshine directed straight at him. "You know, if it's as good as that one is, I might have to steal you from Jongin. I'll see you later, my little artist, okay?" 

\-- 

He tries. He really does. Hours upon hours are spent frowning at canvases, colors clashing against the figure of Baekhyun he so longs to recreate. It feels as if he's grasping onto the rays of light that Baekhyun emits, as if he's searching for that twinkle of warmth among the hues in front of him. 

But it doesn't work -- he's far too enchanting to be summed up in murky blue and gray. Baekhyun is everything that shines in this world, and he deserves yellows and oranges and reds, glitter and pink, a spectrum of warmth that overwhelms the viewer with pure adoration. He can't be contained in Chanyeol's limited imagination of cool tones, and it saddens him suddenly. He'll never truly capture Baekhyun's air, no matter how hard he tries. 

He stares at the blues and the grays on innumerable canvases in front of him, littered around his apartment, traces of failure and anger and a lingering feeling of wanting Baekhyun to be proud. It hurts, and so he sets down his brush and climbs into bed, determined to avoid Baekhyun and his inviting lips and captivating smile until he can handle not being able to paint him, not being able to hold him like he so desperately wants.

He may have crushed a little too hard on his muse, and it hurts now -- Chanyeol feels all types of blue and gray, and he falls into a fitful sleep, knowing that somewhere, Baekhyun is radiant shades of yellow, shimmering like the full moon against an endless black ocean. 

\-- 

For days he ignores the group chat, favoring eating takeout in his apartment and avoiding all human contact. He wants to get over this fluttery feeling, this echoing sadness that leaps into the corners of his mind when he thinks of Baekhyun and his inability to portray the boy as brightly as he deserved. 

He's being dramatic, he knows, but he doesn't want to deal with the heavy weight that one-sided crushes and lost inspiration dumps on him. He's only just showered, still drying off his hair with a towel, mind flooded with thoughts of what to order for dinner -- Thai? Pizza? Fried Chicken? -- when he hears footsteps outside of his door. At first, he thinks he's imagining it, but no -- they're not loud, just enough to be sure of a presence.

His apartment is run-down enough to hear most everything through the walls, and so he _knows_ that he's not mistaken right now. There is definitely one or more people lingering outside, and he's suddenly terrified, mind running through every possible humiliating situation that Sehun and Jongin will place him in when they barge in. He prepares himself to deal with Kyungsoo's pitiful stare and Junmyeon's comforting pat on the shoulder, to cry a little about getting attached to a beautiful boy for no reason, and to move on. It'll hurt, but he's a little grateful, even if they didn't call first and, subsequently, scared the living shit out of him. 

The footsteps move more, fidgeting, and Chanyeol sighs -- he'll open it before they get mad and start banging on the door. It swings open, and there's no tall, boyish nuisances standing there -- no short, caring friends waiting patiently either. It's Baekhyun. Baekhyun with rosy cheeks and shining black hair and a tangerine colored sweater. _Beautiful_ , Chanyeol's mind supplies, even though he wants it to shut up, wants to silence that lovestruck side of him. 

"Hey," the smaller's voice is out of breath, as if he'd ran up the flight of stairs to this door, as if he was in a rush. "Are you okay?" 

Chanyeol is still in shock, but he nods hesitantly, watching as the charming boy steps past Chanyeol into the room, hands balled in the sweater, nervous. There's a twinge of uncertainty in his walk today, and it's worrisome, but Chanyeol ignores it in favor of panicking over the state of himself and his apartment. There's canvases filled with attempts of Baekhyun's face all over, all gastly, all too novice to be compared to this angelic face, to this breathtaking personality, to the ray of light that has situated himself by the couch. 

He's looking around, fascinated, at the countless paintings. Chanyeol wants to throw up. 

"Why are they all me?" Baekhyun's peering around each edge of the couch as if he can't believe what he's seeing. The taller watches him do it, feeling his heart constrict with a little bit of fear and an overwhelming amount of devotion. 

"I --" he gulps, shutting the front door, watching Baekhyun's eyes drift to him so slowly, so full of awe, clear and brown and vivid all at once. "I wanted to finish painting you. It didn't work, though." 

"What are you talking about?" Baekhyun's head is shaking, and his lips are up in the tiniest way, pink coating his entire face. "They all look amazing, Chanyeol." 

"They're too gloomy for them to be you. I _always_ paint in blues and grays and -- I'm sorry. It just didn't work. You need warm colors, since you're like sunshine."

His face lights up in a smile -- just like the tiny one he'd shown Junmyeon that night at Kyungsoo's apartment, the one that shone the moment he'd felt attracted to the celestial boy in front of him. He's seen this smile directed at him, seen those lips upturn and eyes go completely full of warmth, but never with this intensity. Never in his life has he felt so singled out, so wholly targeted, and it he feels like he's on the verge of breaking the promise to get over Baekhyun. 

"I'm sunshine?" Baekhyun's voice comes out higher than normal, smile evident, and he lets out a tiny chuckle, shaking his hands free of his sweater. "You did a beautiful job with the paintings, Chanyeol. All of them. You don't have to try that hard for me." 

"I wanted to --" the smaller boy is getting closer, and Chanyeol backs up against the door, throat closing in on itself. "I wanted to make something that looked like you. It's just hard to capture you in colors that aren't warm and bright." 

Baekhyun's smile goes radiant, and suddenly his eyes are only faint memories, closed as eyelashes brush against his cheekbones. He's so close, so small, so warm -- he's waiting for something, and Chanyeol is scared that he might guess wrong. The smaller peeks one eye open, looking at the taller expectantly, and then he laughs loudly, just as booming as the first time he'd heard it -- goofy and annoying and completely divine. 

"You don't have to worry about capturing my features in paintings, okay?" Baekhyun's on his tip-toes, lips curling into the tiniest, most dazzling smile Chanyeol's ever seen. "You can have them in real life." 

Lips touch his, and every ounce of heat that he'd ever dreamed of is contained in Baekhyun, he's sure. This is what a warm summer day feels like, what heaven must be like. Chanyeol closes his eyes as he sighs against the soft lips, only yellow reflecting on the back of his eyelids. 


	2. + holiday special

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *baekhyun voice* merry christmas exo-l! 
> 
> (love you guys! enjoy 5.3k more of pure fluff dkjfkfj)

The only word that runs through Chanyeol's mind is _soft._ Soft lips, soft voice, softer confession. Their mouths meld together, open and warm and full of surprise, until the taller feels his head go light at the lack of air, at the way Baekhyun's slender fingers have managed to grasp his shoulders.

They pull apart, and Chanyeol is left staring at a wondrous sight -- Baekhyun, pink-cheeked and out of breath, hopeful and glimmering. This Baekhyun has red lips and hungry eyes, and the sight adds a new side to the boy he knows.

The Baekhyun that sees through him and smells like strawberries, the Baekhyun who shares his sad oldies with Chanyeol on the bus, the Baekhyun who looks wrecked after their kiss -- he will remember them all.

"Kyungsoo always talked about you," Baekhyun's face is a faint red, but his eyes display only confidence, and Chanyeol can't think clearly, not when his lips are still chasing after what they'd had only seconds before. "From the stories he told, I -- I think I got a little crush on you. And you were _cute_ when I met you. So if you'd want to, I don't know, go out sometime --"

"A crush?" Chanyeol thinks he might choke on the sharp breath he takes, might actually pass out right now. Baekhyun’s body heat is so close, and the smaller is completely open with himself and his emotions. It scares him, thrills him, and leaves him dizzy. "On me?" 

The smaller doesn't see anything unusual with his statement, lips pouty and eyes confused. He nods and lets his shoulder hit Chanyeol's playfully -- it hurts Chanyeol's heart, physically. 

"Yes, on you. You're cute and nice and talented," Baekhyun shrugs, vaguely embarrassed, and Chanyeol feels his whole body move with it, drawn in by the golden boy in front of him. "It's not shocking. I'm allowed to like cute, nice, talented boys, aren't I?" 

Such an angel, such a clear personality, such warmth in everything he does. And he wants Chanyeol to go out with _him_? If this is a dream, the taller doesn't want to wake up anymore. He's decided that he'd live in this fantasy world with no questions asked. 

"You -- you can," Chanyeol's nodding because, yes, there is no other way to respond, not when everything feels like a hallucination and Baekhyun’s glimmering eyes are documenting his every move. "You can like whoever you want. And it's me?" 

Baekhyun laughs -- it's tiny, accompanied by a snort -- and it feels like a field of flowers has blossomed around him, cradling him from any worries of the past. The smaller's happiness is somehow consuming and healing at the same time, and Chanyeol thinks that it's the most fascinating feeling in the world, to be happy simply because Baekhyun is.

"It's you," his hands trail back up to Chanyeol's shoulders, and the taller lurches forward, hoping that his instincts are right, wishing that he will taste the honey that drips from Baekhyun's words soon. "So, do you want to go out sometime? Is that okay?" 

He nods so quickly that his neck hurts, and Baekhyun smiles back brightly enough that he actually feels lightheaded. Lack of air is nothing compared to Baekhyun's round cheeks, crescent eyes, lips that still shine with their kisses. 

This smile -- Chanyeol knows he will paint it, whether he likes the way it turns out or not. It doesn't matter. Nothing else matters besides the quirk of Baekhyun's lips as his smile finally falls, the slow breath he takes before they're meeting in the middle again, consumed in a kiss that makes Chanyeol boil from the inside out.

\-- 

"You know, I'm not qualified for this, technically," Chanyeol's pouty, and he watches the smaller boy shrug his doubts away, a nimble hand reaching up to pinch his cheek. "I'm not an art teacher." 

Baekhyun's frowning now, eyebrows dangerously near his eyes, lips scrunched in a way that makes Chanyeol want to laugh. He looks ridiculous, so soft and annoyed, so endearing. But then he hears loud, high-pitched screaming and he's scared all over again. He can't _do_ this. 

Baekhyun's leaning toward him, so close that his breath hitches, still unfamiliar with such intimacy, with the way Baekhyun so naturally leans forward to latch on to him. In his eyes, Baekhyun is still sunshine, still so dazzling, and the smaller knows it. 

Baekhyun completely disregards the way he sends Chanyeol scrambling for words with each smile that graces his lips, with each gentle touch of his hand, with each kiss that lingers between them.

He is confident and bright, and Chanyeol embraces it, even as he stutters to keep a grip on reality when Baekhyun is with him.

Warm breath ghosts over his cheek, moves to his nose, and closes on his chin, a tiny kiss left tingling against the line of his jaw. His lips are plush. Chanyeol feels like maybe his organs have melted. As Baekhyun pulls back with pink ears, his stomach lurches -- nerves or the smaller's loving proximity, he can't be sure. 

"Don't worry! You're overqualified," Baekhyun's smiling then, so attentive, so overwhelming, and Chanyeol wonders if there's rules against being this perfect. "You paint every day! They don't know how to even use the brushes -- I really don't think they'll judge you too harshly." 

Chanyeol makes a face, one that sends Baekhyun into a fit of little giggles, palms moving to signal the younger to stop, fingers wide and stationed mid-air.

"Yeol, they're _four._ They'll probably just love having someone new around them." 

He hopes he's right, so he nods along, too fearful to fight it much more. He truly does likes kids, but there's something scary about being in a room full of them -- about having their tiny, fragile lives in his hands. He doesn't know if he trusts himself to keep them safe from his gangly limbs and uncoordinated feet, to make them laugh instead of bursting into tears at the sight of him.

"They like new people, right?" Baekhyun's eyes soften at the anxiety lacing Chanyeol's words. "What if they're scared of me?" 

Suddenly, the school's hall feels tiny and cramped, the linoleum squeaking under the pressure of Chanyeol's pacing steps. 

"You won't scare them, hurt them, or upset them. You're a calming presence, even if you don't realize it. You're very fatherly, okay? Don't worry." 

Chanyeol blushes all the way to the tips of his ears, feeling praised and analyzed all at once. It's embarrassing to hear that from his (rather new) boyfriend, much less to hear it in the hallway of a preschool while he's having a mental breakdown over his intimidating build. 

He wants to question his so-called fatherly qualities, but then Baekhyun's unwavering hand is holding his, pulling him toward a door covered with drawings of holiday scenes and wrapped presents, all sloppy and confusing and adorable. 

There are mismatched colors and random stick figures in each, a jumbled mess of animals and shapes and crudely written letters. He thinks that there’s something adorable about the pure creativity that pools in each marker stroke, in the carefree way they express themselves. Chanyeol finds himself wishing he could achieve what they already have, could regress back to a time when art was the purest thing in his heart, not a learned technique that makes him question each piece he creates.

"How cute," he muses, and Baekhyun turns to beam up at him with the warmth of a fallen star, with the comfort that settles in the folds of a worn-out comforter. It leaves Chanyeol feeling as though he's bathed in sunlight, wrapped in the warmth of the older’s arms. 

“They really are,” his smile never drops, and the door is pushed open to reveal tiny faces and whiny little voices. “You’ll love them.”

Chanyeol has never wanted to protect an entire room of people more than he does right now -- if Baekhyun is sunshine, they are the flowers that bloom at the first ray of light. The vibrant room is transformed by hurried voices and pudgy hands reaching for Baekhyun, nasal tones begging to be picked up and yelping when their friends push to get to their helper first. It’s evident that he’s adored in this school, that he is their sunshine too. Chanyeol doesn’t mind sharing. 

“How are you guys?” Baekhyun’s patting the heads swarming around his knees, voice calm and overly sweet. He stumbles back a little, elbow grazing Chanyeol’s stomach, and he turns to smile in apology. “Oops.” 

Chanyeol swallows hard at the curious looks he garners, at the way the kids cling to Baekhyun’s legs when they notice him in the doorway, stiff and scared and much taller than any of their other visitors.

“Kids, kids,” Baekhyun’s hands float through the air as he calms down the crowd of toddlers forming around him. “I brought a visitor today. Teacher Jang said it was okay, so I brought someone to paint with us! Do you want to paint?” 

The words take a moment to sink in, but when they do, Chanyeol feels the entire group of children’s focus shift back to him, wide eyes observing him with a newfound wonder. 

“Painting!” the boy who speaks up has a tiny voice, and Chanyeol’s heart constricts at the way it cracks at the end, excited smile taking over his entire face. Then he’s moving forward, a tiny, warm hand wrapping around Chanyeol’s thumb. It’s a little sticky, but Chanyeol tries to not worry about it, focusing on the pout directed to him. “Who are you?” 

“I’m Park Chanyeol.” 

The hand squeezes his finger tighter, and he flushes red at just how cute it all is, at the way Baekhyun’s eyes are so intense right now, full of pride, devastatingly endearing.

“Excuse me, visitor, can you speak up?” Baekhyun’s voice is a little teasing, and Chanyeol wants to frown at him, but he can’t, not when he’s sparkling brighter than anything else in the world right now. “I’m sure my friends would _love_ to hear your name again. You should tell them what you’re studying in school, too. They’re all excited to go to school, right?” 

An uproar of excited yells, a few negative noises, a giggling Baekhyun. Chanyeol isn't sure he's ever felt this wholeheartedly fond. 

He waves awkwardly with his free hand, feeling generally too big and too wide and too rough for this room and audience. At the same moment, Baekhyun brushes a curl out of a little girl’s face, earning a scrunched nose from her, and Chanyeol’s mind whirls at the way he reaches out for them so easily, so adoringly. 

“I'm Park Chanyeol,” there's a sneeze from the crowd, and Baekhyun’s voice is gentle when he whispers about using the crook of your elbow instead. “I'm studying fine arts at the same school as Baekhyun.”

Their faces remain blank, and he's scrambling to clarify, ignoring the amused smile on his boyfriend's face. _Explain it like a child would_ , Baekhyun's gentle gaze seems to whisper, encouraging him. 

“I paint a lot,” he smiles his biggest smile, relief flowing through his veins at the interested noises he earns in return. “Painting is my job.”

“Are you any good at it?” 

Chanyeol stills at the bold question, looking at the tiny girl in front of him. Her pigtails are braided perfectly, clipped together with barrettes that match her baby blue tracksuit. She’s possibly the cutest child Chanyeol has ever laid eyes on, and she's looking at him with eyes that judge both his painting skills and his proximity to Baekhyun. 

“Yerin, that's not a kind question. Remember what we said about asking questions that make other people feel bad?” 

“I'm sorry,” her lip trembles as she mumbles the words out, and fear is set alight in Chanyeol’s chest. It hurts to watch her stiffen her upper lip and look at the ceiling, pains him to watch Baekhyun eye her worriedly, regret pooling in his eyes. 

“I'll paint a picture of anything you guys want, and you can all tell me if I'm good or not, okay?”

The rest of the kids squawk at the prospect, moving to circle the craft table nearby and eyeing Baekhyun expectantly. It's like clockwork -- the shorter man springs into action, opening drawers and offering Chanyeol a stain-ridden apron. 

“Yerin,” Chanyeol kneels down, hesitant when he sees the tears swimming in her eyes, the pout that she greets him with. He turns the apron in his hands over and over, unsure of how fragile this situation is, how sensitive children can be. “Thank you for apologizing. That was really nice.” 

The praise is enough to make her smile, even as a tear rolls down her cheek. She lets out a huff of air, obviously frustrated and still seeped in guilt. Chanyeol doesn't know how to handle her lingering sadness, and he's almost panicking, but then Baekhyun’s kneeling next to him, voice dripping honey. 

“Since you apologized so kindly, I think Mr. Chanyeol would like you to be his assistant today, right? He told me so earlier!”

The taller nods frantically, heart quickening when Yerin bursts into a shimmering smile, braids swinging around as she jumps up and down excitedly. She's happy again, tiny hand worming its way across Chanyeol’s palm and latching on with all the strength she possesses.

“Thank you,” Chanyeol is aware that he still sounds stressed, but all of his worries are fading from the simple fact that Baekhyun is here. “You're so good with them -- you saved me. I didn't know how to keep her from crying.”

Baekhyun only smiles back, shrugging toward the group of kids still staring at him, waiting for his next words. 

“I'd let you feed my ego some more, but they're expecting me to sing the craft station song." Baekhyun whispers it, throwing him a wink as he pulls his own apron over his head. So angelic, so charming -- so Baekhyun.

The taller trails behind him, entranced, and listens to Yerin's miniscule voice happily explaining where they should sit, whether their paintings should match, when snack time is. 

“Okay, friends, let's all become little artists!” 

\--

It feels unreal to be this close to Baekhyun, to bask in the glow of his smile and voice as if it's the most natural thing for the pair to do. Their lips meet almost easily now, hands awkwardly fitting together on the bus, simmering nerves and overwhelming joy framing each moment. 

It’s still hesitant and tender, both too scared to push farther than kissing and wandering hands, and it leaves Chanyeol feeling like a teenager again when he’s held against Baekhyun’s chest, when they spend nights screaming at each other over the way the pasta is going to burn, when they debate which Star Wars prologue is truly the worst and dissolve into laughter.

Only days ago, he'd longed to capture Baekhyun's image perfectly, had craved the ability to represent Baekhyun's brilliant existence on the canvas. And only days ago, Baekhyun had stopped his anxious heart and self doubt, had silenced him with soft lips and whispered confessions. 

It feels foreign to adjust to Baekhyun so quickly, to grow comfortable with his presence and habits, to wake up feeling as though he’s caught a falling star with his bare hands. It feels surreal to be sated with the tiniest kisses, to allow himself to chase after Baekhyun’s laughter like it’s the only thing that matters.

It’s all unfamiliar and thrilling, but Chanyeol doesn’t think he has ever felt this level of security, has ever known peace before Baekhyun held him. 

\-- 

Dinner with his friends is just like it's always been -- loud, annoying, overwhelming. Chanyeol is trying his best to block out the crude conversation and zealous laughter that fills Kyungsoo's apartment, just like always.

Except this time, he's the center of every conversation, Jongin's raised voice and Sehun's unintelligible mouth-full-of-food comments focused on the way Baekhyun is resting against his side, the way they'd entered together with hands connected. 

"You're _dating_? As in, romantically?" Junmyeon's eyebrows threaten to join his hairline, and Chanyeol goes red at the sheer volume of Baekhyun's laugh from beside him, at the way Jongin eyes them both up and down.

“Are you really surprised?” Kyungsoo’s voice rings out monotonous from the far side of the kitchen, and Chanyeol can hear Sehun's stifled laugh, even through the bread crowding his mouth. “Chanyeol asked for his Instagram immediately after meeting him. He locked himself in his apartment and told me not to call because he was frustrated with a painting. It was _painfully_ obvious.” 

“Oh,” Chanyeol feels his face heat up. “I guess it was.”

At this revelation, Sehun looks up from his pre-dinner carbs, shocked and vaguely hurt. He squints his eyes at the tallest boy suspiciously, pointed face even more angular with the sour look that consumes his features. 

“Is _that_ why you didn't respond in the group chat for, like, three days? Because you were sulking?” Sehun’s voice is annoyed, biting, and the tallest wants to sink into the floor. 

"Wait, really?" Jongin joins in, voice whiny, and even Junmyeon spares him a judgmental side glance. Chanyeol shrinks under their gazes, fiddling with his napkin instead of responding to either, acutely aware of Baekhyun's eyes trailing to study him ever so softly.

“Why didn't you just _tell us_ you had the hots for Baekhyun?” Sehun's voice is back to normal, all annoyance gone -- replaced with teasing, with mirth that fills his eyes and leaks into his smile.

As soon as the youngest's finished speaking, Baekhyun chokes on his drink and stiffens next to his boyfriend. He's coughing violently and rejecting Chanyeol’s hand as it moves to slap his back, head shaking and his lips pulling into an embarrassed smile, feigned confidence covering the blush creeping up his neck.

“I'm sorry, I just don't know how I feel about the phrase ‘have the hots for’ -- it's a little, uhm,” Baekhyun shrugs, rosy cheeks and ears evident in this dim light. Chanyeol wonders if he should think the other looks so pretty right now, if there's something wrong with him for being infatuated even as Baekhyun chokes on ice and sputters his words out, flustered. “It's a little weird.” 

“What's weirder is that you were just as annoying,” Kyungsoo’s voice is closer, and suddenly he's standing behind the group of boys crowded at his table, a large pot in the grasp of his oven mitts. “You purposefully said I was busy when Chanyeol messaged you. You just wanted to go on a date with him, didn't you? You didn't even _ask_ me whether I was busy!”

Baekhyun stumbles over his breathing again, and this time he's truly mortified, cheeks blooming into a dangerous red and mouth falling open in betrayal. Chanyeol likes the way his eyes cut into Kyungsoo, thinks that the darkness that encompasses them is enticing. 

“Stop!” he whines pitifully, obviously embarrassed, regretting confiding in Kyungsoo at all.

Chanyeol takes a chance, letting one of his hands move to rest on the smaller's knee in what he hopes will be interpreted as a comforting gesture, squeezing lightly. Baekhyun jumps a little, eyes blown wide, before he's relaxing against the touch, offering a blistering smile back and brushing a lock of hair behind his scarlet-hued ears. 

"It's fine," Kyungsoo makes a little noise as he adjusts the pot in his hands. The youngest boys look at each other, eyes urging the other to help out, both too lazy, but both worried for Kyungsoo. "I didn't want to go on your date anyway. Actually, I'm glad you guys can stop whispering to me about each other."

Chanyeol bids farewell to the sunflower potholder in the middle of the table as the boiling stew is placed on top of it, steaming and fragrant. Jongin groans happily; Baekhyun calms his breathing from the earlier fit of coughing.

Everything is so embarrassing, so new, but Baekhyun's knee is warm against his hand, smile sweet as he spoons food into Chanyeol's bowl. 

"Here, my little artist," Baekhyun is back to being teasing and angelic all at once, voice confident once again. He has recovered, seemingly invigorated by Chanyeol's adoring stare and unwavering hold on his knee. "Eat up." 

Jongin fakes a vomiting noise, loud and aggravating, and Sehun spits his mouthful of stew across the table with a loud guffaw, leaving the entire group engulfed in chaos. Junmyeon's yelling something about cleaning it up, voice raised to an octave that Chanyeol dreads hearing. Kyungsoo disregards the choking noises from the two youngest boys, falling deadly silent as he hurries to fetch more napkins, panic and fatigue tainting his calm face. Junmyeon nags, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and deals with things silently, as always. 

The youngest boys are actually screeching now, evidently proud of themselves for everything they've caused, and Chanyeol knows that he should be overwhelmed and annoyed and kind of disgusted -- but Baekhyun is giggling beside him, his own delicate hand moving to rest on top of Chanyeol's, and he doesn't think he'd trade this moment for the world, chaos and all. 

\--

Sometimes it can still be hard to capture the smaller's features, though Chanyeol thinks he's getting closer, if only because he's getting to know every side of his endearing personality from the outside in.

Instead of copying the harsh curve of his jawline and connecting it to crinkled, joyful eyes, he tries soft cheeks and drooped lips, tired and longing for Chanyeol to move closer under the moonlight. 

Baekhyun is sunshine -- he will always be. But Chanyeol has discovered that, when he wants to be, Baekhyun is so much more.

When he is drowsy and gentle and his voice rolls through Chanyeol's head like the waves, he is the moon -- glowing and effervescent. When he is laughing on Chanyeol's couch, surrounded by dark paintings and telling him stories about the kids, he is dazzling and fascinating, like the stars that twinkle across the night sky, like the moles that form constellations across his cheeks. 

He suits yellows and oranges and reds and stands out, oddly bright, uniquely vibrant among Chanyeol's cool tones, but he finds there is a sliver of Baekhyun in every color.

The Baekhyun that laughs in his face and tickles him with cold feet under the covers is a fiery red; the Baekhyun that insists on being the big spoon and stifles his yawns into Chanyeol's shoulder is the palest blue of the sky, filled with clouds and early morning dew. 

The Baekhyun that steals his sweaters and forces him out into the cold winter air despite his whines is the orange that coats the sky as the sun sets; the Baekhyun that refuses to take the subway back to his own apartment, crashing on the couch and singing along to old love songs as Chanyeol paints is lilac like the flowers that bloom outside on warmer days.

When he focuses not on the colors themselves but on the way Baekhyun embodies each, it becomes easier to paint the smaller like he so yearns to -- the colors don't limit him. The colors enhance the sides of Baekhyun that he hadn't known at first, the versions of Baekhyun that giggle against his neck and call him pet names with that teasing, content voice.

Painting Baekhyun is easy when he knows him like the back of his hand, muted yellow and royal blue and everything inbetween, all splayed out across the canvas of Chanyeol's heart. 

\-- 

"We're spending Christmas Eve at your place, right?" Baekhyun's obviously busy on the other line, voice quieter than usual, almost out of breath. "Yes, honey, _I know_ \-- I'll help you move your cot in a minute, okay? Finish folding your blanket for me, please? Thank you."

Chanyeol's chest feels tight from hearing Baekhyun's voice raise an octave when he addresses the kids, all sugary sweet and caring. He loves the way Baekhyun is confident and silly and loud with him, adores the way he transforms into an angel in front of those children, as if they're too precious for him to exist in any other fashion. 

"Yeol, you there?" 

The voice against his ear wakes him from the momentary daydream he'd slipped into, leaving him dazedly looking around the crowded subway car and realizing that he's smiling like a complete fool. Baekhyun's voice has that effect on him, after all. 

"Yeah, sorry, I'm here," he hopes that he doesn't sound too out of it, that Baekhyun can't sense the way his next words make him smile and blush on instinct. "Christmas Eve at mine. I'll see you tomorrow. Tell the kids Mr. Chanyeol said hi!" 

\--

Baekhyun's face softens incredibly when he looks past Chanyeol's outstretched arms and focuses on the painting propped up behind him on the easel. It's very obviously him, and the taller is clearly proud of it, of the way his eyelashes splay across his cheekbones, the way his lips are open in a tiny breath. 

"You painted me taking a nap? Should I be concerned?" his voice is joking and close to the edge of something more emotional, something that lights a fire in Chanyeol's stomach, something that makes the smaller glimmer in the doorway. "I'm joking, you know -- it's beautiful. It's _so_ beautiful." 

Then he's setting down the sparkly gift bag he'd been holding and leaping toward the taller, arms winding around his neck and pulling him in for a quick kiss. He tastes like hot chocolate and cookies, like chilly december air and cinnamon. 

"You're not napping, really," Chanyeol kisses at his cheek, head spinning with too much Baekhyun to comprehend fully. "You're looking down at your class. You're watching me try to work the TV at your apartment. You're -- it's just you . The softest side of you, the one I can express in blues and purples." 

Baekhyun laughs against his lips, mouth open and warm and inviting. He licks Chanyeol's, teeth tugging on his bottom lip before he places another, tinier kiss on the bow of his lips. He is in control, lips moist and nose cold, and Chanyeol thinks this is enough -- he doesn't need a Christmas present, just Baekhyun's undivided attention, just the pride that comes from painting him like he'd dreamed. 

"You're so talented," the smaller rubs their noses together, making Chanyeol go completely red, making him still against the slender fingers holding his neck. "I'm going to be honest, okay?" 

Chanyeol nods, heart spiking, eyes focused on the gorgeous man in front of him. 

"I thought those first paintings were great, all those weeks ago. I thought they were beautiful and well-done and, honestly, I would've thought any one of them was a masterpiece," he smiles, radiant, and Chanyeol swoons even more. "But I _know_ that this is the one you are proud of, so it's the best one. This is what you worked so hard for, and I love it. I adore it. I'll frame it. I'll look at it every day. I like it because _you_ like it." 

Chanyeol can't think of anything to say besides _I like you so much_ , so he doesn't, just lets himself dissolve into Baekhyun's lips once again, warm and sugary. The only thing sweeter than his lips is Baekhyun himself, tender and charming when he moves his fingers from their place on his neck to tug on his ears softly, jokingly, lovingly.

"Oh! Wait, wait," Baekhyun's pushing him back softly, eyes glowing with something hidden and burning, something that makes Chanyeol's pulse thrum with anticipation. "Let me get you your gift." 

He opens the bag with shaking hands, only slightly confused by the giant plant inside, by the tiny handprints that line the pot. It's only when he sees a familiar, adult-sized handprint that he stops his breathing completely, awestruck. 

"You got me a plant? And you and the kids put your handprints on the pot? That's adorable."

Baekhyun's lips quirk up, pleased at Chanyeol's quick recognition, nodding happily. His cheeks look unbelievably soft, and the taller gives them each a peck on impulse, affection running high. 

"I know you don't think that you can raise a plant, but I wanted you to _try,_ " he winks. Chanyeol feels as light as air. "Of course, I'll be over all the time -- I won't let it die. And the kids wanted to thank you for their painting lesson, so we customized the pot. You like it?" 

"I do! And I like you. An unbelievable amount." 

Baekhyun only laughs in response, blossoming warmth and glittering smiles overtaking everything else in Chanyeol's mind, just like the first time they'd met. 

"Merry Christmas, my little artist. I like you an uncomprehensible amount." 

And, maybe tonight, Chanyeol thinks he can match that teasing confidence, can meet Baekhyun's mouth easily and happily, carefree as the smaller always is. Maybe, for tonight, he can be a glimmer of sunshine in Baekhyun's life, too -- it's the least he can do to repay him. 

"Let's dance, my little muse." 

And Baekhyun plays his old love songs, the ones that leave Chanyeol feeling empty and whole at the same time, the ones that Baekhyun hums along to so sweetly against his ear. The cold of the winter can't touch him, not when he is wrapped in Baekhyun's warm hues and protected by the cool tones of his heart, their clumsy feet moving to a waltz across his living room floor.

\--

Dating Baekhyun is a lot like watching Chanyeol's most treasured movie for the hundredth time. Familiar voices, familiar lines, familiar laughs, all memorized and stored in the back of his mind, his heart. It’s the jump of Chanyeol’s pulse at Baekhyun’s every move, despite having seen him in this very moment before.

No matter how well he knows what is coming, no matter how perfectly he can imagine the curve of Baekhyun’s lips as he smiles, it shocks him each time, reminds him of the reason this one is his favorite. 

Of course, each movie has its pitfalls, has the moments that leave the viewer feeling a little hollow, a little used. Sometimes, Baekhyun doesn’t like the way Chanyeol reacts to his stories and views, detests the way their voices mingle in the air as they argue. Sometimes, Chanyeol has to turn off the TV completely and breathe to silence the arguments flooding his mind. He lets Baekhyun leave, allows himself to sink into the couch and frown at the blankness in front of him. Sometimes, it feels like the end, a bitter taste left in his mouth, but then Baekhyun’s voice is soft on the other side of the door, eyes gentle with remorse. 

They sit together on the floor, knees touching as they eat the food spread out between them, and Chanyeol pieces his mind back together as he explains himself. He lessens Baekhyun’s frown as he apologizes for lashing out earlier, for the way he'd let Baekhyun's emotions grate against his. Baekhyun mimics it back, tenderness flooding his features, and things are okay.

The interlude is over, and the movie is playing once again, a familiar soundtrack strumming through both of their minds, leaving Chanyeol as wonderstruck as the first time he’d watched it. 

Maybe dating Baekhyun is like watching a movie, and maybe it leaves him gasping and crying and laughing every time. Maybe that’s what Chanyeol wants, after all. Nothing is more beautiful than the familiarity that trickles through each of Baekhyun’s movements and emotions, the way Chanyeol can watch his favorite scenes over and over with each melting touch of their lips, their hands. 

Dating Baekhyun is the gentle lull of the credits, the tender way Baekhyun burrows further into Chanyeol's chest and stays there, content. It's the ending, bittersweet, finished with the soft brush of lips against his own, with Baekhyun's voice uttering the same thing as always. 

"Goodnight, my little artist," a peck on his check, a hand on his bicep, warm as the sunlight that will inevitably wake them in the morning. "I like you an infinite amount." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ho ho ho!!!!!!!!!! i hope you enjoyed this little fluffy holiday special!!! it was so fun to write omg! 
> 
> i love you all! hope your december was great, and i hope that this coming year will bring you happiness. love you guys so much🎄❤️
> 
> ao3: baekyall  
> twitter: baekyalls  
> other: curiouscat.me/baekyall

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys liked this PURE FLUFF!!!!!! thanks for sticking with me darlings!
> 
> (if you guys want a ??? pt 2?? or continuation?? hmu i'll be glad to give you some more?) 
> 
> have a lovely day/night/morning i hope you all are doing well and staying healthy like our angel chanyeol would want you to! bye bye!!! <3
> 
> aff: baekyall  
> twitter: baekyalls  
> other: curiouscat.me/baekyall


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